Only Fools Die
by Hedonistic Opportunist
Summary: All this time, he'd been chasing after a foolish dream. NaruSasu. AR.
1. Chapter 1

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own scratch. Naruto will never belong to me.

**A/N: **

I wrote this one a while ago, and I've been meaning to finish it for the past few months, but then I just suck. I'm posting the first part – edited and halfway readable, hopefully – because I'm not sure when I'll finish this thing. Maybe, I never will, given how _hard _this was to write.

My original intention was to post this as an uber-long one-shot, but then I think it's better to leave this like this. Extended thanks goes to the people on my f-list who first commented on this, and didn't think it was utter crap. In spite of the fact that what I shared with them was an unedited travesty. This probably still needs some editing, since I epically fail at proofreading. To be honest, I'd like a beta for this (so if you're interested, please contact me?).

Reviews would be honestly love. I'll love you even more if you have intelligent criticism to offer.

----

The landscape was charred -- all coal black burning and wasting away in the scorching heat. Smoke invaded his nose, and the first tell-tale signs of tears were forming in his eyes. Soon, they'd be rolling down his face, but not out of pity, a feeling of loss – or God forbid – sadness. His throat didn't feel dry, and there was no tightening, constricting sensation of pain haunting him.

Indeed, it was simply the smoke – the ashes tossed up in the air, mingling with the other particles and becoming one with them. It was only this that made the water rise to his eyes, made the sight in front of him simmer. But he wasn't crying. God forbid, he wasn't going to cry.

No, he wasn't going to cry for them, was he?

They'd deserved it, after all. More than thoroughly after what they'd done to his brother – his entire family.

Sasuke's jaw hardened, and he inhaled deeply, drawing in the smoke-polluted air and feeling – for the longest time – peaceful.

_No_, this – this dragon come to life, oozing out his poisonous flames and turning everything to dust – wasn't his doing.

Sasuke continued to watch how his former home continued to roast and be engulfed, surrounded by the cricking-cracked-blackened splinters of trees that had been incinerated; he saw how the houses frizzled away in thousands, how everything – very quickly -- fell to dust in front of his very own eyes.

And none of it was his doing, though it could very well have been.

......

_Konoha had burned down, and for a while no cicadas could be heard playing there. No music could be heard at all._

And yet, the scene of horror, the mortification over what had transpired and the loss ebbed away; it faded away into the background and the harp, though it was a little blackened and didn't play as clearly as it had before, picked up its old note again, and – once more – gave its tribute to the fireflies and cicadas. To fireflies because the very music was so light, so transient and fleeting it in its quality that it resembled the weak jets of glowing light. Brighter than a torch, but still weaker than the sun.

Yet, as the sound was crackling, chirruping and broken, it was also a tribute to cicadas (_who would never play the same way again_).

In the little towns, the harp played differently. There the sound was clear, unbroken and harmonious.

In one of those little towns, far away from the energetic bustle of enthusiastic merchants trying to lure customers in, the simple life had evolved quite sweetly, and cicadas could always be heard playing there. Even when Konoha had burned down. However, to be fair, they'd never heard of the tragedy.

Surrounded by lush-vibrant grass, high-growing oak trees, the town had always been sheltered and kept from invasion. The summers were moist, and the winters mild. The very folk who lived inside of that town were that as well: jovial and temperate, understanding and never too obtrusive.

Here everything worked under the "_live and let be_" motto.

In that quiescent little town, separated from the rest of the world by rolling hills and quietly flowing rivers, a little pub was situated. And in that little pub, in that pleasant little town set off to the tune of cicadas playing is where the story starts.

---

The smell of tobacco lingered everywhere; it hung suspended over the people sitting in the pub, was sipped in with every drink, and breathed in, and out by everyone and everything. It whizzed and flew around as a fly does around a pot of jam. Or a moth dances about a lantern.

In short, the pesky smoke was that persistent that it was impossible to escape, but no one wanted to escape it. Smoke meant safety, and safety was good. Like a mantle, a curtain draping, it veiled everyone and everything from the harsh whispers of the past, the cold and brooding darkness, and from their own conscience haunting them. All discomforts were washed away by the comforting warmth of liquor that was currently being pushed down the throats of devastated solace-seekers.

Evening had fallen. Out of an arch-shaped window, one could view how the sun, glittering in golden and yellowish streams, was slowly disappearing away into the horizon – farther and farther – and giving leave for dark-blue clouds to conquer the sky. It was only going to take a bit, and soon the sky would be covered in that indigo-blue, which would cloak the entire village in darkness.

Darkness was comforting. In the dark, you couldn't see the scars and blood -- a perfect situation for people who wished to hide or had something to hide. All was fair, and all was good – and what was best was that no one asked questions.

Here you and the others just merged into shapeless, slackened faces and the only history that counted was one you created at the moment.

Everything else played a subordinate role, was meaningless even, and either dissolved or intermingled with the tobacco-odour (becoming one hazy black-greyish puff of smoke).

There weren't many people in the pub, only some ten lone fellows. Ten fellows, who had nothing in common with each other apart from their waned looks, and bloodshot eyes. Still that was enough; in their waned-dissatisfied-tired-worn out look they were closer to each other than brothers, bonded to another by the merciless shackles of what most societies refer to as wasting time.

And yet, on that particular evening with the sun slowly sinking away and the wind – a strong breeze coming from the north – howling and knocking on the thin-framed arched windows, something was different.

Even the landlady, a well-shaped and voluptuous woman of fifty, noticed that something was amiss (and, mind you, she wasn't the type to get suspicious because to have been that would have cost her too many nerves. And, _mind you again_, she was intent to live until she hit the good old age of ninety-nine).

"Are you going to take some more, sir?" she asked good-naturedly, observing the newest addition to the ten lone fellows with ardent interest. Not even a fire-fighting lion could have absorbed her attention that much – and she'd seen her fair share of oddities, and peculiar characters.

A curious type, he was. Strong of build, with tanned skin and a mop of golden hair falling thickly into his face, she was forced to admit that he was quite stunning. So stunning, in fact, that the landlady blushed, in spite of herself.

What made him even odder was that he'd just ordered a pint of beer and, having swallowed it all down in one go, looked intent to leave again.

"No," he answered, and, flipping a coin, grinned after he'd thrown it onto her wide-spread palms. "That's enough. Quite enough."

"You sure?"

"Yes, quite sure," the young man – he couldn't have any older than twenty-five – replied assuredly, and taking out a crumpled cap out of his moth-eaten pockets, prepared himself for a journey. "Too much drink is bad for the brain. 'Sides, I need to save money."

After having said that, he placed the cap with obvious, ardent self-assurance on his blond head and, with loud, energetic steps, walked away from the inn, leaving its tobacco-infiltrated atmosphere behind. He would never be seen in that pub again.

The landlady sighed, and moved away from the table; she clasped her hands together, and loudly exclaimed:

"What a shame!"

"You looking after younger men now ?" a rough, but jovial-sounding voice called out and minutes later, a stout, and sturdy fellow of some sixty years came out of the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around the landlady's waist and twirled her over to his side, so she could look in his good-natured, and to her still handsome face, "I won't have you running off with young rascals, as long as I'm still alive!"

The landlady snorted, but then broke into a wide smile. "You old fool! What do I need a young one for if I have you?"

Her husband, as if incensed by her smile – pulled her even closer, marvelling that even though his wife had grown older, she hadn't lost a tiniest tint of her beauty. Perhaps, she was little rounder, her hair wasn't quite as dark as it had once been, and there were traces of fatigue on her face. And yet, her eyes were the same; they still sparkled with the same liveliness, and demure coquetry that had made him fall head over heel these thirty years ago (but who was counting?).

"And there's no one better than me."

There was a loud cough, and the landlady was snapped out of her girlish, fanciful reverie. One of the ten fellows, a grimy old man of seventy, had burst out laughing and was sending suggestive looks into the landlady's direction. She cringed.

"See what you did, you silly, silly man. Nearly made me lose face in front of the guests," she reprimanded her husband, but then smiled. "You really needn't be jealous, dear. Why, I could have been his mother! Hmm, and he was a strange one – that bo... young man."

"How so?" the man asked, though he knew exactly what his wife was talking about. But then again, he was too fond of her voice; it was always lyrical and sounded beautiful in his ears. Men, who are really in love, do listen to their wives.

"He smiled a lot, but ... I don't how to explain, there was a hollow look of devastation in his eyes. Like he'd been through hell and back."

"Ah, are... you surprised?" the man inquired, sitting down on a chair that was placed before the kitchen door. He sat there cross-legged, and pulled out a pipe from his shirt-pocket. With a mixture of understanding, annoyance and acquiescing tolerance, the wife watched his actions and sighed again. She'd never cure that old ruffian of his nasty pipe-smoking habits. After fifteen years of useless struggle, she'd given up.

"I guess you're right. Nowadays things aren't simple anymore," she said, and shrugged her plump shoulders," I really don't know what the world is coming to."

....

On that night the pale yellowish moon hung low in the sky, so low that you believed it would only take a few very energetic jumps to touch its stony surface, and yet still far away enough for it to appear like a shining spectacle in an otherwise dull night. Poets would have coined the term "glittering jewel adorning the heavenly sky", but the stranger didn't give a damn, really. For him it was just a moon -- plain and simple.

The strange stranger was seen walking down the well-kept and clean streets of the little town. Still, cicadas could be heard playing in the distance, and the moon was high up in the air, making the stony streets and wooden roofs glitter green in the cool night.

He coughed and shuddered. He'd forgotten – whether out of haste or respite against long-sleeved things – to put a jacket on. So, as a consequence, the hairs on his arms stood up, and the now increasingly harsh wind was bruising his cheeks. And he was trembling more than necessary.

He reached a little inn, which was a small, but tidy-looking little building. And the owner, who showed himself as soon as he'd heard a knock on the door, was tidy and small in appearance as well. He was balding, and his pink-coloured, cherub-sized face briefly reminded Naruto of a peach.

"How much do you charge for a night?" Naruto demanded gruffly, feeling that it was better to get to business at once. All this beating around a bush was something that repulsed and annoyed him.

"Not much. Please do come in sir," the owner replied pleasantly, far too pleasantly for Naruto's tastes. There had to some kind of foul business going on here. He really wasn't sure whether this was such a good idea, after all.

But a quick glance around the streets, and the cold that was beginning to amass around him washed away his doubts, or at least made him rather less picky than he'd usually have been.

Perhaps, the room was going to be awful... still, it was better than spending the night out, freezing and clattering your teeth, Naruto reasoned. That's why, without causing any further ado, Naruto shoved his doubts into a proverbial cupboard and accepted his room for what it was.

And you know what?

It wasn't that bad of a room at all.

....

The sky was a frightening red; the clouds gathered together in a maddening rush and the very air crackled with thundering, ominous potency. Still, no rain was falling. Instead, everything was burning.

He could see Sasuke, standing there and looking at the all-enveloping flames, circling and destroying what had once been his home. Sasuke looked perfectly apathetic.

Naruto's fist trembled, his entire body was convulsing. And he felt that numb sensation of nausea creeping over him.

"Why?" Naruto spat out, that accusing and bitter-like-black coffee word rolling out of his tongue like a single great wave, flooding everything in a single second.

_Why did you allow this to happen? Why did you ever have to leave? Why, you stupid fucker, didn't you allow me to save you?_

_Why of all things are you here, right now?_

"Naruto- Madara is dead. I killed him."

"So is Pain. I killed him myself," Naruto stated in a off-handed tone, as if he'd been talking about the weather. There was no hint of anything on his face; his features were hard and ruthless, and only the dried blood on his hands and red stains soaking his clothes were a visual evidence of what had transpired. His eyes were cold, colder than Sasuke had ever seen them before.

"This means-"

"This means everything's fine now," Naruto replied sarcastically, although this wasn't true. One look at the ruins, the burnt down village, and the smell of blood assaulting his nose was enough to assure Naruto that, no, nothing was fine. And that nothing ever would be.

He'd seen her die, and no matter what Naruto did – no matter how much he yelled, screamed and cursed the Gods – nothing would purge the memory of Sakura falling before his eyes. He'd never see her again.

And it was all, Sasuke's fault. All his damned fault. A thousand thoughts shot through Naruto's brain, each more piercing and furious in its intensity than the former. It made him shudder, made his heart beat in an irregular rhythm, and he felt like he was being torn in half, eaten up inside by some all-consuming grief.

"It's too late," Naruto interrupted harshly, his voice firm and strong, although he could feel himself broking inside (_bit by bit, the way a clock slows down, then comes to a sudden jolt and stops ticking forever_). "I won't ever forgive you for this, Sasuke."

Sasuke didn't respond: his verbal communication skills had come to a standstill. Even his face, that perfectly sculptured face, was nothing but a mask. A lifeless mask. Nothing would move him, it seemed. Even if the world came crashing on them, he'd never do more than flinch a muscle.

He was so disgusting. Sasuke wasn't worth half the fuss. And all this time, and all this damned fucking time -

_I've been chasing after a useless dream._

Something inside of Naruto – whatever it was – broke. It didn't break loudly – not like the crunching sound of a clock being stepped upon, or the knick of a bone crushed in two. No, on the contrary, it was a silent and unassuming sound, which appeared and flashed away the way water comes running down out of a tap.

"I tried to keep cleaning up your mess for so long. I – fuck it. Words are wasted on you."

"This- "

"Isn't right. I hope you're happy now, Sasuke. Because that's what you wanted, wasn't it? If you kill me now, it would be picture perfect."

Sasuke didn't move, and Naruto understood. He'd never understood better. In fact, an entire series of epiphanies came crashing down his head in that single, horrible instance.

"You're just a coward, a hypocritical coward. Your brother Itachi -- he was a hero. You're nothing but a poor puppet who's being controlled by pitiful hatred."

_And I'm a fool for not having realised this earlier._

Not waiting for Sasuke to respond, Naruto turned away; he walked away with his heart drumming, beating restlessly and his steps heavy, as if little monsters had attached himself to them.

Yet, nothing could have stopped Naruto, apart from one person, but that person didn't do anything. He just continued to watch, and he was watching so hard and fixedly that he could have burned a hole into Naruto's retreating figure.

But that didn't happen: the only thing that happened was that the very first tell-tale signs of regret were burning themselves into his heart.

A harsh breeze started to blow while Sasuke watched Naruto walking out of his life.

.....

Naruto gasped out in his sleep and he placed a shaking hand on his sweat-dampened forehead; he could sense that his entire body was soaked in cold sweat, and – what was worse – he was trembling like a leaf. He hadn't been in such a condition forever, or at least he couldn't consciously recall when he'd last felt like tearing his hair out, bit by bit.

This – this utter pain – mocking and taunting him was maddening. It was utterly maddening, and unbearable. He had to do something; anything that stopped him from experiencing that horrendous sensation again.

"Shit not good. I should have gone to a brothel," Naruto groaned out, and promptly got out of bed, not caring the slightest for the cold of the night.

Yes, he'd do that: he'd seek out a whorehouse for the night. He might have not done in ages – or say quite frankly, not often enough, but it seemed like a good idea to him now.

_If you're feeling a little down and in need of being consoled, boy, there's nothing better than sweet wine and the company of a whore._

That, amongst many other lessons, had been something Jiraiya had taught him.

"It's been ages, I should have forgotten him."

....

The joining of two human bodies was always a sticky and wet transaction to him; he'd learnt to view it as he viewed eating or doing the laundry. Simply put, it was nothing special.

It's essentially an exchange of fluids, though it's been grossly over-romanticised over the past few decades, Naruto thought and shook his head.

He'd just finished rolling about in the hay with a nicely shaped, albeit a little foul-smelling woman. But she was good enough. Good enough to enjoy and toss away once the well had run dry, the milk was spoilt and ugly, ugly reality came a-knocking on the door again.

Yes, Naruto thought, flexing his aching arms, she was good enough.

Not too old, too young. Experienced enough, but not entirely tainted by the ghosts of her past. These – these ruined doll-ghosts – he detested more than anything; they only lay there – forlornly – while being debauched. No, he'd chosen this one because she was _alive._

"You're quite a stud," the woman muttered, giggling a little. Naruto, who'd been engaged in looking out of the window, glanced up at her quickly. The moonlight enlightened her features and body, which she'd wrapped up in the white blankets.

Her flushed face and her sparkling green eyes, which looked impishly up at him, were rendered nearly beautiful at that single instant. For a single instant, Naruto allowed himself to recall another pair of green eyes, which years and years ago had looked up at him in the same manner (but with even more impishness lurking behind their depths). But, as quickly as the spark had appeared, it passed again, and burned away into nothing.

Naruto looked away, and shook his head.

"Don't say stupid things."

"No need to be shy," the prostitute insisted, and let her hands ran over Naruto's taut stomach muscles, liking how hard and rough his skin felt to her touch. Seeing that the man wasn't protesting, she let her hands –ever so cautiously, nearly shyly – wander to his face; that scarred, toned yet utterly beautiful face. When Naruto still didn't protest, she moved towards him, letting the blanket that had been shielding her body from the cold fall to her hips. Her fingers moved to touch his lips, and she licked her own lips suggestively, and Naruto was struck by how desirable she looked. Even if it was only for a sheer second.

But the image was shattered and broken once she opened her mouth.

"It's been so long that I've been allowed to spend the night with a young man," she whispered, and Naruto could nearly taste the fathomless longing and desire rolling off her tongue; the despair and desire to escape were so omnipresent that it made the bile come rising to his throat. Perhaps, this hadn't been such a good idea, after all.

Naruto hissed out; that – in his opinion, utterly unnecessary – gesture sizzled, scorched his skin and hurt, hurt worse than a hundred needles being pushed into his skin. He needed to escape. Get away before the pain grew enormous and swallowed him alive.

So, with a loud slap and another hiss, Naruto recoiled from her, and pushed the woman away.

"I'm no stud, okay? Here just take the money and leave me alone."

The woman stiffened abruptly and pulled the blanket over her body again, all the while shivering and trembling like a lost puppy wandering around in the rain. She bit her lips before speaking again.

"No, don't send me away yet. Please," the woman begged, her tone suddenly losing all the playfulness she had flaunted about earlier. All of a sudden, Naruto was painfully aware of the fact how young she was, how thin and frail she appeared to be, and – what was worse – how big and imploring her eyes were.

It made him feel sick, sicker than he'd felt in years.

Something inside of Naruto screamed, roared its lungs out at his conscience and caused him to tremble involuntarily. Now, he remembered exactly why he didn't do this too often. And why he'd resolved not do it again -- and, most important, why he'd never do it again. Ever.

"Alright. But don't try to touch me again," Naruto warned her, rising from his bed and, under the sombre gaze of the moon, hastily put on his clothes, which consisted of a white dull shirt, very worn out orange pants and a black cap. "You can stay here till I set out. That's all I can offer you."

The woman nodded, and submitted to his orders with perfect compliance. Naruto turned away from her, suddenly not being able to observe her anymore. Her eyes were too imploring, far too alive and earnest for someone who should have been dead inside.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_, Naruto thought and punched his clenched fist against the window; a crack formed, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter a bit. The pain was fleeting; it definitely wouldn't kill him, and Naruto knew that it would be healed in a short while.

His physical scars always did. What a shame that his emotional scars never did.

On that night, Naruto decided that Jirayia's opinion on sex was pretty much shit and not much worth.

.......

A few months later, on a windy Autumn, Naruto returned to Konoha. Not with a bang, not with an accompanying concerto of crackling thunder and howling storms, but with the yellowed, nearly golden leaves of fall hovering over the air and the sweeping, cold gust of an approaching winter's breeze.

And he didn't come with that energetic rush, or the outburst of energetic, youthful vivacity that he'd been associated with before. Instead, he came in slowly, stealthily and the leaves gently moved in accord with his idle trailing.

It happened to him every now and then: a lark or some siren in possession of horrendous powers would pull -- practically drag-- him back to the place he loved (and hated) with mindless passion.

Empires are easily destroyed, and just as easily rebuilt. The same could be said for Konoha; it had risen from the dust, and now glowed and prospered more beautifully than ever before. Progress had become a big word now -- heard everywhere in the pubs, the inns and every other little corner of the town; it spread like a fire and changed everything in its wake. Everyone was eager to partake in the new technological development and hence, everyone and everything had seized the opportunity to change things.

At times, Naruto barely recognised his village anymore. It was his, but at the same time this sparkling, shining new place wasn't the same place he'd grown up in.

Yet, to the more astute and experienced connoisseur of observance, things were different, but also sadder and more lifeless. Yes, the buildings – now built a little higher and a bit more glorious – were polished, but also drab, lacklustre and dull in colour.

The people themselves, though dressed well and of healthy builds, were – upon closer inspection – lacking something. Something vital. They moved around like ghosts, unaware of what the present, the past and – most importantly – the future could bring.

They'd learn to hide the pain underneath a smile.

But the cicadas didn't sing when Naruto returned. No, the it was the stormy trashing of trees and whipping of leaves that he was greeted with.

One of the few edifices that had been rebuilt with respect to its former appearance were the Hokage Towers; it had not only been restored to its former glory, but had been saved from being modernised, like so many of the other buildings. It was one of the only buildings this side of town where you didn't have to pretend.

Naruto felt a stab of pain when he walked the few steps towards the office, haunted by a hundred conflicting thoughts and useless memories.

Too much happened here. _Too much._

The ANBU guard let him pass, without even asking him for his intention or his ID. Everyone knew who Naruto was and, therefore, these formalities were nothing but a bothersome obstacle, so they'd been dropped altogether.

Similarly to the unchanged appearance of the building itself, the man bent over his papers hadn't changed a lot in the past ten years either. Even if the skies had come crushing upon them, Naruto doubted that this person would have ever changed – and this was comforting in a world that had twisted and turned its shape so much recently.

Though it was painful because it also reminded him of what things had been like once; _once _being that awful, powerful word that haunted him in his dreams and which he tried to escape in his non-sleeping moments.

"Kakashi," Naruto said as a way of greeting and, not waiting for any kind of acknowledgement, he sat down on the chair facing the Hokage who had been his teacher once.

"Naruto," Kakashi said, looking from his over-laden paperwork and his left eye twinkled, revealing that he was amused -- perhaps, even happy to see his former student sitting in front of him.

"I guess, I won't have the honour of being called Rokudaime by you?" he asked Naruto, half in jest, and half seriously. No one ever knew when Kakashi was being serious, and when not. To be truthful, he didn't know it anymore, either.

Naruto paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully; he'd grown a stubble and Kakashi, finally truly seeing the man facing him for the first time, noticed how much more ragged, tired and broken Naruto looked. It shouldn't have surprised him; so and so many days had passed since Naruto had been that twelve-year-old child, but it still managed to shock the core out of him at times (_when, oh, when, had Naruto grown up into that man?_).

"Do you want to be called that?" Naruto inquired, searching the older man's face for a non-verbal answer.

"No, not by you. Not by you, Naruto."

Having said that, Kakashi let the white cloak slip from his shoulders and carefully hung it over his chair. He sat down and faced Naruto again, glad to have someone treat him like a normal person, instead of a leader.

"It's been a while."

"I know. I stayed longer, thinking that this would be better for the people. To help them and so," Naruto admitted in a nonchalant tone, and then grinned mischievously. "You know, I got tons of free ramen. And the women were hot too."

"I see," Kakashi noted and after that, both fell silent. It was the same nearly age-old dance they'd been practising for the past ten years. Both of them were pretending. Neither of them were really talking about what was truly important.

Naruto hated the silence. Way, way too unsettling. Plus, it reminded him of nasty things. So, he broke the silence.

"Did you get the copy I sent you?" he asked, grinning impishly. Kakashi, in spite of everything, had still not gotten over his porn obsession.

"Yes, I did," Kakashi answered, and then smiling, confessed," I think Jiraiya would have proud of you. In fact, you've become so much like him that it's scary."

Naruto tried not cringe at the mention of his mentor's name. And yet, he couldn't suppress the slight nostalgia arising within him.

"Well, he certainly encouraged me enough in that. He always dragged me to bathhouses or brothels. It's hardly surprising that some of his lifestyle has rubbed off on me," Naruto said, and then broke out into a laugh. Kakashi laughed back in return.

He'd missed the boy's laugh (because, damn, no one laughed the way Naruto did).

"Who would have expected that?" Kakashi then continued, drawing circles on the table with his fingers.

"Getting all melancholy now, are you? But then who would have expected that you'd end up being Rokudaime, of all people?"

"You do realise that -"

Naruto's eyes hardened.

"Don't talk about that, Kakashi. I'm not interested."

Kakashi laughed softly. "Strange, I still remember that twelve-year-old boy who'd talk about nothing else."

"That boy's dead. As far as I care, he died in that fire ten years ago," Naruto said hoarsely, not looking at Kakashi while he did so, trembling with a suppressed rage that he'd buried inside of him for too long. Had he been younger (and stupider) he'd have demolished a few buildings by now, but restraint had become a second name to Naruto. Besides, he just wasn't in the mood.

"Are you sure?" Kakashi tried again.

"Yes."

Naruto rose from the seat, feeling that this discussion was over and done with. He really didn't understand why they'd wasted any words on it at all. The well had run dry, the carriage had broken and the horse had run off a long time ago. And as such, there was no point in dreaming about things that could no longer be fulfilled.

"Naruto..."

"Yes?"

"You know, he's – Sasuke – he's been -"

A short exasperated breath followed was by a snort. Kakashi could very well perceive that this discussion – if it had ever been one, really – was not worth continuing. However, he wasn't willing to drop the subject entirely yet.

"You know-"

But Naruto interrupted him again. He was trembling from head to toe. In anger. Or despair. Kakashi couldn't tell.

"Come on Kakashi, _stop that_. I thought I told you not to mention that name in my presence ever again."

"Don't you think it's time that you finally just forgive and for-"

Naruto clenched his fist, and shook his head.

"I can't forgive nor can I forget, Kakashi. The old me -- that part of me that is now dead -- might have. But I can't. I just can't. Not now or ever."

With that, Naruto said "I gotta go" waved briefly and turned his back on Kakashi. He couldn't stay.

And yet, Kakashi thought, while he watched Naruto's figure lose itself into the shadows of a long hall, _why is that you're still so troubled by it?_

After all, if someone was truly dead, then there was no difficulty of him staying that way.

The doors closed behind Naruto, and Kakashi sighed, letting his gaze wander to the Hokage Mountains. They were the same as always, and yet Kakashi couldn't help thinking that the faces, which had once been proud and so full of grace, looked a little jaded and worn out. To him, they represented the same faces he met on the streets every day -- at least, the adult faces looked like that.

Ah, it has to be old age gaining control over me slowly, he thought with a snort. Oh well, it was unavoidable. Sooner or later, he'd end like one of those old men.

Like one of those sentimental old guys who go and on about "t_hose were the days, my friend ...". _

Kakashi thought that it was woefully ironical that he, of all people, had managed to survive his thirty-fifth birthday. It wasn't much. He wasn't an old man yet, and still, for a ninja, he was quite old. So much older than he'd ever wanted to be.

.....

In another part of the town, where the dead haunted the deserted, ghost-like streets and everything – even the dust-laden air itself – seemed to have come to a standstill, Sasuke Uchiha had just woken up. A bit later than usual, perhaps, but he'd spent the past two weeks on a stupid mission, escorting some old man to a town, which hadn't been a town at all. No, it had been a small, cherry tree ensconced village, and there had been nothing but trees, huts and a flowing river for the eyes to feast upon.

Pretty much boring, and a waste of time to boot.

And the only thing the man had needed protection from was himself, and his absent-mindedness. During the trip to that blasted village, Sasuke had had to ensure that a) the man didn't trip over his own feet, b), didn't end up being eaten up by some wolf, and c) make sure that nothing disquieted the old guy or he'd certainly have died of a heart attack.

Sasuke really did hate his life, at times. No, he didn't hate it sometimes, he hated it most of the time – the whole useless twenty four hours were a bane to his existence. If he could have worked his will and wished his existence away, Sasuke would have done so – then, all would be fine, and no one would bother him anymore.

Sometimes, Sasuke thought that Kakashi, who must have been feeling extremely bored being confined to an office all day long, was fond of torturing him with asinine missions. Whenever he complained, Kakashi's only retort was:

"It could be much worse. We could have had your sorry ass executed, you know?"

They hadn't had him executed, of course; they hadn't even stopped him from being a ninja, which wouldn't have awfully productive.

After Konoha had been left destroyed, they'd needed every willing hand to help rebuilt it and afterwards, they'd needed every single power to help keep it protected from possible invasion. So, Sasuke had remained a ninja.

And Kakashi often reminded that he'd already been punished enough. Sasuke couldn't help agreeing. He'd been punished enough.

_More than enough._

Sasuke yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes, still not taking in the dim-light, which had invaded his sombre and darkish room. The wallpaper was peeling off, there were cobwebs hanging down from the ceiling and a stale smell of dust hovered over the place. However, Sasuke wasn't affected by this; all these aspects – as negative as they were – had grown on him like a second skin.

In the same unconcerned, nonchalant way, he put on his clothes. It was a simple jounin's outfit, which was worn and quite sorry-looking from years of usage. He should have bought a new one, but Sasuke didn't feel like replacing it.

Because no one bothered about it and, if no one bothered about it, Sasuke didn't feel like caring either. Then, to be honest, he'd never really cared – not about his appearance, anyway.

Sasuke realised that he was good-looking, beautiful even. A simple glance at the mirror told him that -- even if he was unkempt and his hair a little shaggier than necessary -- he still looked good.

After he'd finished putting on the awful vestiges of his clothes, Sasuke set out – walking through deserted streets and even more deserted houses. In the past, this had haunted him, had sent his heart beating wildly against his ribcage. It had broken him time and time again. He'd been attacked by images of what the streets had once looked like, and what he'd irretrievably, irreversibly lost.

But now it didn't matter anymore. Perhaps, because Sasuke had finally grasped the fact that mourning the dead would not bring them back.

There was another reason why Sasuke hated his life, and when he entered the full classroom with the creaking floor, he knew exactly _why_. He could then feel at least sixty pair of eyes staring up at him, and it disgusted him. And yes, he absolutely hated his life at that moment.

One of Kakashi's ingenious ideas had been to make Sasuke a teacher.

.....

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**:

After five months, I managed to finish this thing. Hooray?

Never again am I going to write such long chapters. _Seriously - _editing this was a nightmare.

_**Warnings**_: largely disharmonious writing, bad (fail!) editing, badly written mild smut and lots of wordiness. Lots of cussing as well.

Feedback is appreciated. Just be civil?

Naruto stormed out of the building, in which Kakashi's office was located, with a frown marring his features. No, he didn't look outwardly depressed because that wasn't his thing. Naruto, grown wiser in years and taller in inches, had long since learnt that masking your emotions was the key to survival. Being an open-book, and thus, exposing your weaknesses and laying them down -like cards on a table - before the enemy wasn't good, only leading to premature death. Or, if it didn't do that, it just made things harder – messier and more complex. Complex thoughts had this irritating tendency to nestle themselves into your brain, and haunt your for sleep for what was a very long time.

_And I've learnt how long_, Naruto always repeated to himself like a mantra. It was all he could do. Sometimes, Naruto thought his entire life consisted of reliving that one moment over and over again. He wanted to escape, but could not – no matter how hard he tried. It followed his path wherever he dared to tread.

Outside, it had grown cool. The sun still smiled down on the world, but a frosty wind blew, making leaves flutter about on the listlessly-looking grey gravel ground, and dust flew into Naruto's eyes, blinding him momentarily. It was nearly like he'd been consumed by Gaara's sand; his eyes had become wet. He rubbed them.

And then Naruto started running.

A cold blast of wind moved in accord with him, entangling and nearly coaxing him in its age-old dance of suffocation. It was a deadly one, curling around its victim and when the moment was come, it drained you out of life.

_Come closer to me_, it said. And yes, Naruto nearly wanted to – wanted to bury himself under the suffocating mass of sand, be squeezed to death like Gaara had used to punish his naysayers. Maybe then, he'd feel alive again and be freed from the burden of having to pretend to try shuffling along - _of having to put on a fake smile on his face, even if he'd long since lost any reason to smile - _with everyone else in this meaningless limbo called life.

_Become one with me_, a hollow and inhuman whispered gently into his ear. Naruto shuddered, felt the bitingly cool wind slashing his skin, felt himself being nearly torn asunder by its raw power and he closed his eyes. All the while, he was running. Running everywhere. Running nowhere.

He was out of breath – gasping, in fact. Naruto didn't realise that he'd been running that fast – he didn't even realise that he'd been running at all.

Indeed, he hadn't been running at all when he'd walked out of Kakashi's office. But now his lungs were aching badly and his stomach hurt; his legs were giving way to a sensation that only be described as numbness. They felt as if they had been made out of heavy lead, and Naruto was forced to stop moving for a while. His head throbbed. It had never throbbed that painfully before.

_Holy shit, _he thought, summing up the full extent of his anger very astutely.

He'd walked into the office in a somewhat good mood, but now it was soured. Throwing a disdainful look at the grim statues, Naruto reminded himself why he disliked returning to Konoha so much. It was as if the very air of it - the very essence of Konoha - choked him, made him gasp out in pain and want to scratch out his eyes until he could no longer see.

That still would haven't been enough because even if he'd been blind, he still would have been able to hear. Of course, you could chop your ears off but that wouldn't have been any better, he still would have been able to smell.

In the end, no matter whatever he did, as long as he was in Konoha, he would never be able to escape its icy, bitter wrath.

Naruto knew that he could never forget because Konoha (and _Sasuke, fucking Sasuke_) were branded too deeply into his heart; the flame of anger might have cooled down a bit, but it it could always flare right back up – and hit him in the face with the full force of its hateful intensity.

_Fuck_, Naruto decided, now was the right time to seek out Kiba and get awfully smashed. Kiba was really good company for going out for drinks. He was loud, exuberant and never talked about the past – and that was exactly what Naruto needed right now. Naruto needed booze.

If he'd avoided drinking too much in the other town, he was fine with losing himself in the taste of alcohol now. For a flicker of a second, Naruto's eyes rested on the face of Tsunade's statue, and for a singular second, he believed he saw something like disappointment lighting up in those artificial and grey eyes. Naruto shuddered, and felt like laughing, only that this wasn't funny. If anything, it was so unfunny it made Naruto feel sick to the stomach.

_Tsunade... _

Another name that he'd grown to despise over the course of time. The very mention of it sent the bile rising to this throat, and he wanted to retch, retch till there was nothing left until he had nothing left to feel sick about anymore. And yet, if he could have, Naruto would have done anything – even retched himself to death – if there had been the faintest glimmer of a chance that she would come back again. Ghosts, however, did not have the tendency to return in real life. And that was that.

Suddenly, Naruto decided that maybe getting drunk wasn't the best option. He'd settle for ramen instead. Yes, good ole' ramen – that was one thing that never put him down. Besides, it had been ages since he had tasted it. Even thinking about it, Naruto could remember how ramen always burned in his mouth, seared his tongue and yet, made him feel happier than anything else. Better than alcohol, anyway.

_Better than awakening Tsunade's disapprov-_

Naruto checked himself. Oh gosh, he was going mad – had to be. Thinking of the dead as if they were still here?

This was the first sign that he should – voluntarily – lock himself up in the booby hatch. Unfortunately, Naruto thought, Konoha didn't offer facilities such as these because, if you really thought about it, a large percentage of Konoha's population was stark raving mad. Kakashi, not excluded.

_Fuck, I can't stand kids_, was the single thought in Sasuke's brain as the last child filed out of the classroom with loud excited footsteps that echoed like thunder against the linoleum floor; the excited patter-patter sound still rang on until the child reached the door, and only the noise died down when the last pupil closed the door.

Sasuke closed his eyes, as he heard the door being closed with the bang and the echoes of "See you tomorrow, Uchiha-sensei!" sound faded away into distant murmurs.

Sasuke's shoulders relaxed, and he let out a deep sigh, feeling that he'd been freed from a burden too horrible to name. He'd just spent a good two hours trying to explain why it wasn't a dandy idea to use ninjutsu as a prank (it was unsafe and only stupid people like Nar- only stupid people did it).

_It is a bit strange to stand here now_, he thought. If someone had told him ten years ago that he'd be the one replacing Iruka-sensei in his duties, Sasuke would have thrown a disdainful look at the person and walked away, shaking his head in mild annoyance. If he'd felt a little cranky, he would have sent a chidori in that person's direction as well.

However, that had been ten years back, and this was now. Now, he was a teacher while Iruka was basking under the full glow of well-deserved retirement. It wasn't as if Iruka was old or anything, but the man had gotten married and decided to devote in being with his family. So, he had opened up a book store, and, what rather amused Sasuke, gained quite a bit of profit from it – certainly enough that he didn't have to either do any missions or teach brats the finer arts of the shinobi lifestyle.

Ten years ago, this would have caused an outrage. A ninja quitting his duties hadn't been something that had been well-looked upon. But times had changed. Now, no one batted an eyelid at that, and there were even hushed rumours going on that the age of ninja was slowly reaching its end.

Whatever. Sasuke wasn't the type of person to dwell on such matters. A philosopher he was not.

Sasuke drew in the air of the chalk and coughed. He'd forgotten how sensitive his lungs were to that suffocating atmosphere. He would never grow used to the smell of chalk – it was so chock-full and penetrating to the nose as well as to the lungs, blending in with the odd smell of linoleum and lingering traits of children. For, although they were gone, traces of his pupil were still there – a pencil lay forgotten on a table, candy wrappers were scattered on the floor, and somewhere a rotting apple was being gleefully devoured by decomposers in the rubbish can.

Sasuke shook his head, and had to grin, in spite of himself. He'd grown up to become such a sentimental person, but then you only really grow to value things once they are gone. Sasuke felt a name forming on his tongue, but he refrained from saying it aloud. He wouldn't appear, after all. Only genies can be summoned, people not so.

Then, Sasuke remembered that he had things to do. Life moved on, no matter how much he wished to remain rooted on the spot and lose himself in memories of what life had been once like. Sasuke moved away from the desk - his desk _(how surreal!)_ – and walked towards the door. He switched the light off, and the classroom was cast in gloomy darkness.

Evening had come, and the sky, which had been light blue, was slowly growing darker and darker. Clouds of a greyish-dark blue were widening their axis, and the blue was disintegrating, being carefully pulled in by aforementioned greyish-dark blue clouds. The sun could no longer be seen, but then people rarely looked up at the sky these days. In its fluorescent brightness, the sun was too much like the memory of Konoha being burned down into dust and ashes, and even if everything had been rebuilt and re-established, few people liked to remember. And even fewer liked to talk about it.

_Idiots,_ Sasuke thought while he walked to a place that always sent chills running down his spine. He saw it once or twice every day, and it still had such an effect on him. It was nearly pathetic. Yet, he couldn't forget.

_I'll never forget. Even if - _

He couldn't finish that thought because at that instant, Sasuke's eyes caught the glimpse of a person he'd not seen in quite a while.

Sasuke stood still. It might have been ages –he didn't know how long it had been, but he recognised that face – the whisker-like scars and the expressive blue eyes could only belong to one person. As cliché as it sounded, Sasuke would have recognised that person anywhere – his smell, the mannerisms and even the way he moved were far too much ingrained into his mind and soul.

_Naruto... So, Kakashi was right. He's back, indeed._

Sasuke only stood there for a while and watched how Naruto joked around with the owner of the ramen-stand. He couldn't hear what they were talking about, but that didn't matter in the least. He could tell. Judging by how Naruto was gesticulating wildly with his hands – showing some sort of rough movements – Sasuke knew that the man was boasting about some kind of mission of his – it could also be some crude, sex-related joke. It was amusing that, in spite of the distance between them both, he could still read Naruto that well. He shook his head at that, and at the same instant, he felt his throat tighten. His chest hurt.

He registered a look of shock and surprise on the other man's face, and saw how the grin disappeared, and was replaced by a grim, nearly angry expression.

Sasuke looked down on the ground. He should have expected it. Naruto, the stupid moron, had kept his promise. Since the day Konoha had burnt down, Naruto hadn't spoken a word with him.

Naruto's apartment was surprisingly clean-looking, regardless of the fact that he had only stayed there for three weeks at most in the past few years. The plants were well-kept, the walls didn't show any signs of being inhabited by spiders and Naruto was always greeted by a smell of something that was a mixture of cleaning blossoming flowers and freshly changed linen.

Naruto had long since stopped wondering who cleaned up his apartment. He assumed it was Iruka, who had always taken care of it before and had probably continued to do so. Naruto, while looking at the clean state his apartment was in, reminded himself to drop his former teacher a visit soon. He would probably -

Then, it appeared before him: a summons from Kakashi.

_Fuck_, he thought, and marched off to Kakashi's office with more than just indignation.

_Better be something good. _

If this was going to be another of these soul-searching talks then Naruto was going to officially declare Kakashi as clinically insane. Because too much was just too much.

_Everything is going according to plan_, Kakashi thought triumphantly and leafed through the book with a grin. He mimicked disinterest; however, he was celebrating inside. Oh yes, victory was his.

Naruto was still ranting and raving, but Kakashi couldn't hear it. He'd tuned himself out and preferred to think that it was background music – like the humming of a fridge or grasshoppers chirruping in a field of green. Moreover, over the years, Kakashi – through observation as well as consciously provoking the man – had grown to known Naruto so well that he didn't even have to listen. Naruto was just too readable. The world according to Naruto was either comprised of ramen, or Sasuke (even if he liked to deny the latter). In this case, the venting was – of course – all about Sasuke.

"I can't believe you'd do that to me- I haven't worked with him for years!" Naruto's voice rang into Kakashi's ears as he consciously made an effort to pay attention again. He grinned again. Naruto was really predictable.

Sasuke, on the other hand, thought the whole ordeal was embarrassing. And undignified.

_Naruto's worse than my students. _

"Naruto, shut up!"

"I'm not not talking to you, bastard!" Naruto shot back gruffly. And went back to ranting and raving at Kakashi again.

Sasuke sighed.

Up until now, he had stood by in silence and been unresponsive. He knew he'd been summoned here for a reason – he'd even suspected it to be some mind-numbingly stupid scheme. He hadn't expected this though – not being tossed back with Naruto in this kind of way.

Every now and then, Sasuke stole a glance at Naruto, carefully examining the features he'd known so well once. Naruto's features had hardened: the baby fat had given way to nearly coarse features. Naruto's cheekbones were hard, his jaw nearly pointed and his face – though still round – no longer belied the ruthless determination of his nature. As a child, Naruto had looked nearly cute – hapless even.

He'd been boyish. There was nothing boyish in him now – Naruto was a man.

No, Naruto wasn't a stunningly beautiful man. A delicate word like "beauty had no place here.

But he looked powerful; the way he stood, curled his hands to fists and clenched his jaw expressed raw power. Those hands – they'd probably killed before.

He could still see that necklace glinting in the darkish room. So, that part of Naruto hadn't fully disappeared yet.

Sasuke found himself spiralling back to reality when Naruto's voice – deep and no longer screeching in quality – sliced through the silence like a sword. Maybe, he'd been talking all the while. But then, Sasuke hadn't been paying attention. His reverie broken, Sasuke found himself listening to Naruto yelling out angrily:

"And for such a stupid non-mission too! Why _us_?"

Sasuke found himself thinking the same, too – even if he didn't know the full details of the mission (he would inform himself later). Why them, exactly? Kakashi, Sasuke reasoned, must have finally succumbed to old age, or his brain had shrivelled in size due to all the pornography he read. Whatever it was, Sasuke internally cursed the man for placing him in such an awkward situation. All the time he'd been here, Naruto hadn't acknowledged his presence other than using a pronoun. He hadn't even looked at him – Sasuke – once.

"Naruto, you're a grown-up man. Shut up."

"I won't-" Naruto roared, but Kakashi silenced by slamming his book down on the desk – loudly. His grinned evilly, and Naruto backed away.

"I can always restrain you. Let you stay here. You want that?" Kakashi promised-threatened, his voice the very epitome of unsettling quietness. "I don't want to do it-"

"You wouldn't-" Naruto started. Kakashi couldn't. So, what if he was Hokage? So what if – theoretically seen – Naruto owed him respect and deference? He wasn't going to – Naruto thought, he wouldn't dare to something to me!

But Naruto was duly mistaken, for Kakashi – throwing his feet on the desk – leaned his head back. Even if his mask was veiling his face from all possible observation, Naruto knew that Kakashi was grinning behind it. And that he was the very object of the older's man all-too malicious amusement. It was surreal and stupid. Still, Naruto felt like being twelve all over again. Kakashi was like a time-machine, confronting him with emotions and sensations that should have been extinguished a long time ago.

"But I would. For non-compliance to my orders."

"All right, I will take on a mission," Naruto replied through gritted teeth.

And so Naruto found himself marching through a forest with tall trees looming over his head. Occasionally, he had to cut down a branch or two because they got in his way. Sasuke was following him, hands dug in his pockets, being about as communicative as a piece of rock. Naruto, throwing a look at the other man every now and then, was baffled by how much the bastard hadn't changed. Then, Naruto had not expected Sasuke to ever change, him being that stubborn idiot that he was.

_Sasuke. _That damned fucking bastard who'd not only haunted his dreams at night those past ten years, but was so much of a stigma that the very mention of his name drove Naruto over the bend. Now, he was here – in flesh and blood, and Naruto couldn't get his mind off of him! Naruto growled, hating this trip already. Damn Kakashi. Damn - well damn everything. Anyhow, he had to make some things clears to Sasuke. _Better now than never_, he said to himself.

"I don't want to talk to you more than is necessary," Naruto muttered gruffly, ignoring the fact that this was the first time he'd talked to Sasuke in ten years. Ignoring that his sweaty hands were trembling with excitement. "Because I still haven't forgotten."

Sasuke merely shrugged, not showing any emotion. "Fine with me, idiot. If we die because you didn't talk enough to me, then it's clearly not my problem."

Naruto paused, feeling his pulse quicken at the unspoken challenge issued at him here. _Damned Sasuke_, he thought. He was provoking him, and Naruto was an idiot if he fell for that trap. Sasuke couldn't provoke him anymore.

"Don't worry. We won't die. I'm a pro," Naruto shot back coolly, and sliced another branch dangling down from a tree in two. Damned those crawler-things. Or whatever they were.

"_Pro? _You mean at running away?" Sasuke asked him in a tone so sarcastic that it cost all of Naruto's control not to lunge at him. The bastard! How dare he? After all that, he still had the nerve to be snappish? Naruto couldn't believe it.

"Do me a pleasure Sasuke."

Sasuke paused in his movements. Naruto could hear no sandals squishing against grass anymore. He turned back, and saw Sasuke's dark eyes fixed on him intently.

"Yes, Naruto?"

"Please don't talk unless I ask you to."

Sasuke didn't reply, but Naruto heard the huff. It made him feel of kind of happy that this must have stung. But he set off again, and Naruto didn't say anything else, feeling that he'd over-strained his vocal cords enough already.

_There goes your wounded pride, bastard. God Sasuke, you're still the same. How disappointing. _

The air was hot and he could feel sweat running down his back. And yet, the heat wasn't worse than the the headache that was beginning to take a toil on him.

_Fucking Sasuke. _

"So the mission is to-" Naruto started, throwing another look at the scroll. Sasuke sighed. He'd read that scroll about fifty times already; Sasuke didn't see what was so hard to grasp about it. He started to have the sinking feeling that Naruto was doing this – going painstakingly through the scroll – just to avoid talking with him. Which was a contrast to how thing used to have been – when they'd been genin, Naruto hadn't been able to keep his mouth shout. The silence now was agonising.

However, Sasuke wasn't going to dwell on the past anymore; it only gave him a headache, and he valued his life. He didn't want to be constantly upset. Besides, Naruto was talking again – even if his speech was more directed at himself.

"So, what needs to be done is-"

"Gather information about this man, and silence him if he's really evil," Sasuke finished, and Naruto threw him a dirty look.

"I could have said that myself," Naruto insisted, and his angry glare grew even angrier. "If I had wanted your opinion, I would have -"

"You would have asked. I get it already, Naruto."

"Fine, then don't bother me anymore." Naruto returned to reading the scroll, this time not even bothering to grace Sasuke with another annoyed look.

Sasuke rolled his eyes irritably, and looked the wood sticks crackling and burning in the fireplace; Naruto's face was oddly illuminated by the fire. His hair appeared yellow, and his blue eyes were even more prominent than usual. And, even if he'd been warned, Sasuke found himself talking. Even if only because he needed to break the silence a bit.

"Yes, we need to ascertain how we'll carry out this mission," Sasuke replied, and rubbed his hand. He'd been bitten bitten by some mosquito, and the spot was aching badly now.

"Simple, I'll use my sexy no jutsu, and leave the rest to you. You're a genius, aren't you Sasuke?"

"Naruto-"

"I'm tired."

With that, Naruto placed the scroll into the pockets of his black – not _orange – _trousers, and lied down on the mattress. He didn't even acknowledge Sasuke with a single look. Instead, he turned his back on Sasuke, as if they'd said everything relevant.

Sasuke sighed. It was so surreal. Memories of long bygone days flashed through his brain, and he saw himself as he'd been a twelve – quiet and standoffish. Naruto had been different; his exuberance had annoyed the hell out of him back then.

And now – and now everything was just fucked up.

...

Back in Konoha, Kakashi was in the process of ordering his porn collection, putting his precious books onto their assigned place on the shelf. He had the time do so now; there were no pesky obstacles standing in the way.

He grinned, and ran a hand through his hair. He wondered what his boys – and they were really still boys to him – were doing now. He guessed that they were hunting after a certain Oshiba who – surprise, surprise – didn't even exist. Then again, Kakashi had never claimed to be the most precise of all people. Besides, where was the fun in it if he'd already told Naruto and Sasuke from the get-go that there was an 80 % chance of them trudging all the way to the mission in search of nothing?

_Precisely_, Kakashi thought, _it would have been no fun at all._

...

Naruto's hands were covered in dirt and grime. So, in the end the mission had been a fluke – a really bad one. But he was still dirty, and sweaty. Sasuke was nowhere to be found, and Naruto figured he'd gone to collect more firewood or something like that. He was grateful for the solitude; the past few days had been less than cheery.

The water was nicely warm, and Naruto sighed as his entire body was encompassed by that comfortable warmth. He leaned his head against the stone, and sighed once more.

_I wish I could always relax like this. _

Then, he heard the crack of a twig; someone was approaching. Of course, Sasuke had to appear.

Naruto groaned in annoyance. "What do you want?"

Sasuke shot a dirty look at Naruto "To bathe, obviously. Or is that forbidden?"

"For you it is. Come back later when I'm gone. I'm not going to fraternise with you Sasuke. It's too late for that. I don't want you here."

It was childish, but the truth. Naruto really didn't want him here.

Sasuke ignored Naruto, choosing instead to undo the tie of his yukata. Feeling awkward all of a sudden, Naruto looked away. This was just too awkward. He heard a splash – an indication that Sasuke had really joined him now. Naruto stiffened; he wouldn't be able to relax anymore.

_God_, Naruto thought, _what does he want? _

He didn't want Sasuke here. He wanted him to be gone. He wanted peace. Not Sasuke.

"Sasuke. Can't you just lea-"

Before he knew what was happening, Sasuke's lips were on his. Naruto froze. He could feel himself falling into a deep abyss, and his entire body was in shock – as if he was being held suspended in mid-air. But those were Sasuke's lips, and they felt chapped – chapped, yet soft at time. Without thinking, Naruto granted him access and was surprised when Sasuke's tongue invaded his mouth.

He was an awkward kisser; there was no finesse in the way Sasuke kissed. None of that cool professionalism Naruto had encountered. It was raw and honest. Nearly brutal in its intensity. His hands curled themselves nearly despairingly around Naruto's neck, and he continued to meet Naruto's tongue with frightening eagerness.

_I can't do this. And he-_

And yet, Naruto was hard. He'd never become aroused that quickly in his life. _Stupid Sasuke_, he thought. _Asshole. _Only he could accomplished such a feat. Naruto should have pushed him away, should have run off to hills and taken care of his arousal by stroking his cock, thinking of what he knew what. It wasn't like his imagination had ever failed him in those kind of situations. After all, he was a pervert. He would haven't been able to carry on Jiraiya's lineage if he hadn't been.

But then, he'd never really kissed someone like this before. He'd really kissed someone. Yes, there'd been his fatal first kiss with Sasuke back at the academy, and he'd kissed Sakura on the cheek – once or twice. It'd been before everything had gone to hell, before -

_She dropped dead at my feet. _

But those hadn't been kisses; he'd never felt on fire when he'd kissed a prostitute. He had never wanted to something to go on forever (go on and on until the very earth under him shook and crumbled).

Yet, this was Sasuke. The very man he'd sworn to never let back into his heart, lest it be broken a second time around. He'd sworn to smite him with silence, to give him the same treatment he'd given Naruto and others before.

Still, he kissed him back, kissed him harshly and explored his mouth. When Sasuke's mouth tore away from his, Naruto attacked Sasuke's neck with kisses. Sasuke sighed.

That was when Naruto realised that Sasuke's erection was rubbing against his stomach. At some point during their kissing, Sasuke had practically settled himself on Naruto's lap. He just hadn't noticed the weight before. Sasuke was heavy.

"What are you doing-?" Naruto asked, mortified by what was happening. He couldn't believe it – this couldn't be Sasuke's intention.

Sasuke silenced Naruto's mouth by placing a hand against his lip. He looked determined, nearly half-crazed as if he'd been suffering from some kind of fever that left him deluded in its wake. His entire body was trembling. Naruto wasn't sure whether it was in anticipation or fear. Perhaps, it was both.

"I'll have you never ignore me again," Sasuke finally said, his voice firm and emotionless. And then, with an assertiveness and aggression that shocked the core out of Naruto, Sasuke sunk down on his cock. It hurt. Sasuke gasped out in what could have only been in pain, and Naruto groaned himself. He hadn't been prepared for this. Sasuke was so tight, so hot and ... _he be damned_, it felt good. Sasuke felt better than Naruto had even hoped him to feel. And yet, a part of him detested Sasuke for it – for giving him what he'd wanted so much once, but what would definitely fill him with nausea afterwards.

"Bastard," Naruto let out, hating how he loved the feeling of Sasuke's tightness. How lucky that they were in water – without it, Sasuke might have been in even greater pain. "Why?"

"I want you to stop ignoring me, Naruto. Don't you think I've suffered enough?"

Suffered? Naruto wanted to – but he couldn't. Not when he was inside of Sasuke. Not when Sasuke looked the way he did just now.

Sasuke's eyes were blazing. Naruto had never noticed it before, but Sasuke's eyes were expressive – terribly, terribly expressive. It sent chills running down his spine because Naruto could see how much Sasuke desired him. How much he seemed to want this. How he was waiting for Naruto to just take control and_ fuck him_. Sasuke's lips were trembling – nearly pouting – and they looked so kissable.

Sasuke looked so -

Naruto could only think of one word.

_Beautiful. _

And that was the trigger – the final cord that snapped in half. Naruto would not hold back. He'd give Sasuke everything his conceited little heart wanted. So, he pushed his hips upwards, feeling his cock enter Sasuke's body even more.

"Fuck," Naruto muttered, no longer able to hide his pleasure.

Sasuke never protested. Instead, his legs wrapped themselves around Naruto's hips as he was pushed onto a rock or whatever that surface was. It was crazy, and yet Naruto couldn't help himself – he drove into Sasuke again and again, earning cries and moans from the other man that he'd never expected to hear. Naruto hadn't expected Sasuke to be that _vocal_, to be that accommodating.

In his dreams, Sasuke had been demanding, even bitchy – much like the boy he'd once known. But _this_ Sasuke gave back as good as he could. He returned Naruto's kisses with the same passion as Naruto did, learning quickly. But he was not demanding. He seemed to take what Naruto gave him with the utmost pleasure.

_As if he's been starving all those years_, Naruto thought dimly, while still rocking into that warm body of Sasuke's.

It was over too quickly – all too quickly.

...  
_I want you to acknowledge me again. I want you to fucking stop ignoring me, Naruto. Don't you think I've suffered enough?_

Only a weak light came from the burning candle, and the only things visible in the cottage were the shades of things – a bed, a table and a small cupboard. The darkness was comforting because light would have only revealed how dusty and poorly furnished the place was. In darkness, the place was given beauty, and - in its beauty -it was haunting.

Naruto didn't mind the dark, however. It fitted the mood he found himself in; he preferred to be veiled in darkness, which hid him from the monsters of his own past.

He couldn't believe what he'd done a few hours ago. He'd slept with Sasuke – he'd had sex with the very person he'd meant to forget. If only Sasuke -

_If only – if only what? _

Sasuke had been a damned virgin, and Naruto had no idea whether to be proud or upset over this. It was a thought to get used to: Sasuke Uchiha had been a virgin up to this point. His kisses had been awkward and clumsy because he hadn't known better _(and he felt so tight and good because no one ever been with him like this before)_.

_God, Sasuke had really been really a virgin. _  
_  
And I, Naruto Uzumaki, have robbed him of his "innocence". This has be the joke of the century. _

Naruto chuckled, and covered his face with his right hand. He really was an idiot – truly. He couldn't get the images out of his head; when he closed his eyes, he only saw Sasuke and how his dark eyes had looked up at him while he'd thrust in and out of him frantically. He could still taste Sasuke on his lips - that odd taste of mint toothbrush mixed with tomatoes; he remembered how Sasuke had shivered, while he'd licked his neck, recalled how sweaty his skin had been, but still tasted so clean, so uniquely of earth and smelt like shampoo.

He could still feel those strong hands gripping his shoulders, and Naruto hissed when he felt one of the scratches Sasuke's fingernails had inflicted upon him sting – it was a burning sensation. However, he knew that these marks weren't going to last forever, but the sounds of Sasuke urging him to move "_faster, harder_" would stay with him for a while.

Naruto was like a bird in a cage now; he could flutter around as much as he wanted, but there was no escape. Sasuke had taken care of that.

Indeed, the stupid bastard had fully taken possession over his senses. And now that stupid Sasuke was sleeping comfortably on the bed while Naruto sat there on that stool, agonising over what had happened. Naruto could see the outline of Sasuke's body on the bed.

He could hear how Sasuke was breathing, and was sure that if he'd looked close enough, he might have seen Sasuke's chest rise and fall. Naruto wished he could hate Sasuke. He wished that he could just get up and leave – and do what he'd done all those years before.

Yet, as the light of dawn, slowly peeked in through the windows, Naruto realised that he'd been lying to himself all these years – he didn't really want to run away.

"You know, you're quite the bastard," Naruto said as heard the shuffle of blankets and the bed creaking; Sasuke had woken up, and Naruto wasn't going to waste his time mincing words. The niceties and games of playing pretend were long since over. Really, the only thing Naruto felt like doing now was to tell Sasuke to fuck off. Or go die in some ditch.

Then again, Sasuke was in his fucking system. Even if he was dead, he'd remain there.

"Are you going to tell me something I don't know already?" Sasuke barked back, and winced when he felt a stinging pain shot up his spine. So, last night hadn't been a dream. For a second, he'd believed it had been a product of his mind because, all things considered, what had happened was just too surreal. Then again, the past few days had been nothing but a series of strange events.

Naruto noticed Sasuke's pained expression, and laughed curtly. Leave it to Sasuke to look like a mortified pansy – he'd always been too sensitive for his own good. Had this been anyone else, he'd maybe have brought up the compassion to feel sorry him, but then Sasuke had brought this upon himself.

"So, does it feel good?" Naruto asked instead. He jumped from his stool, feeling that he couldn't sit still in his current mental state.

"This isn't funny. It fucking hurts, moron," Sasuke snapped and flushed momentarily. He hoped it was out of anger, but a part of him couldn't deny that it was out of embarrassment. Because, damn it, he wasn't used to dealing with this at all.

Naruto rolled his eyes. "You should have thought about this more clearly before you jumped me back at the water springs."

Sasuke fell silent, and looked at his hands – they were calloused, and far from being smooth. He clenched them, and felt his fingernails digging into the soft skin of his palm. He hissed when he felt the soreness again; Naruto had been quite rough with him. But then Sasuke hadn't demanded him to be gentle.

Naruto sighed in relief, and muttered: "Good, you aren't denying it. You've at least changed in that aspect."

Naruto had half-expected Sasuke to charge him with having forced him to do things. But Sasuke only looked a bit uncomfortable – as the frowns on his forehead indicated. He wasn't looking at Naruto either, being apparently more focused in inspecting his own hands.

"I never denied anything, Naruto."

Naruto paused in his steps. "Really? And the severing bonds part...? Or how you don't care about anything but revenge?"

"I still never denied that you were important to me," Sasuke replied matter-of-factly. As if he were talking about the weather.

Naruto laughed bitterly. "You have a funny way of showing how important people are to you, Sasuke. Especially when you shove your fist through their chest. Don't deny that you've hurt people!

"No," Sasuke admitted quietly, and looked down on the floor. It wasn't so much that he feared meeting Naruto's look. He just didn't want to because Sasuke knew what he'd find there: anger, hurt and accusations. He was fed up with of all that.

Naruto was shell-shocked. He'd waited years for this. Years. He'd waited years for the so stubbornly proud Sasuke to finally confess that he wasn't infallible, that he was just as capable of fucking things up as everyone else was. And when Naruto received that confirmation in this sodding hut with the blackened roofs and accumulating dust, he felt like slamming his hand against the aforementioned coal-black wall. Betrayed, he felt so betrayed.

"Still, why now? Why did you do this?" Naruto demanded, angrier than ever.

"I let you do what?" Sasuke asked, playing innocent. He knew very well what Naruto meant; he could see it in his eyes – now widened perceptibly. He was so bad at masking his emotions – Sasuke could read Naruto like an open book.

"Don't play dumb. _Why did you let me fuck you_?"

Naruto hoped it was because it had been a whim of Sasuke's or a terrible way to get back to him. After all, Naruto had spent years chasing after Sasuke and it was a pure stroke of genius – and awful irony – that Sasuke would come crawling back to him now, when he least wanted it.

"I wanted to." Sasuke shrugged, and watched with sadistic amusement how Naruto's eyes widened with shock.

"You wanted to – great. _You wanted to._ Were you so desperate to lose your virginity that it had to me, of all people?"

"... I only wanted to do with you."

Naruto wasn't sure he'd heard right. "What?"

"I only wanted to do it with you, Naruto. No one else," Sasuke admitted, starting out in a near whisper, but his voice was firm and strong towards the end. He fixed Naruto with a serious look, and hoped Naruto realised that he wasn't kidding.

"Are you crazy?"

"No, I don't think so," Sasuke retorted, his voice cool and snide. If Naruto was going to act like a jerk, so be it. It wasn't like Sasuke cared; he could be a bastard all right.

"Is this supposed to be some screwed-up love confession of sorts?" Naruto yelled, shaking so hard that it looked like he was about to tumble over. "Is this your idea of of a joke?"

"No, I'm not joking."

Naruto was done. Done. He really did slam his fist against the wall this time. Kicked the wall with his foot as well for good measure. _Fuck it all_, he thought, _Just fuck it. _"Well, it's too late, idiot. It's too late. You can't expect me to come crawling back to you now. Not now. It's too late. You hear - TOO LATE."

"You said that last night as well."

"Well, I meant it," Naruto said, looking Sasuke straight in the face. He wanted Sasuke to suffer, to taste once and for all what it been to be betrayed.

Naruto didn't wait for Sasuke to reply. He simply went on with his tirade.

"Look, I chased after you for years, Sasuke. _Years. _You kept pushing me back. Always. You only pushed me back. I hoped you'd realise that what you had in Konoha was enough. You never did. But I still loved you. I don't think it ever sunk through your thick skull how much I fucking loved you, Sasuke."

_And how much I still love you. _

"And even if a a blasted part of me will always love you, Sasuke ... I just can't forget. I can forgive you, but it doesn't change the fact that it's just -"

Sasuke interrupted him. "You seriously think running away will make things better, Naruto?"

Naruto froze, utterly perplexed. "I'm not running away."

"But you are, Naruto. You've been doing nothing else in the past ten years."

"Don't fucking judge me. You have no right to judge me!" Naruto was furious. How dare Sasuke accuse him of that! How dare he turn the the tide against him?

_It was you who ran away, Sasuke. Not me. _

"But you have the right to judge me, Naruto? You have the right to shun me and treat me like crap?"

For a second, Naruto could only blink dumbly. The hurt and lingering despair in Sasuke's voice wasn't something he had expected; it hurt to hear Sasuke like that, hurt the way only something can hurt when you know you've experienced it yourself.

And what worried him – terrified – Naruto was that he'd never seen Sasuke look more beautiful than now. Yes, he'd thought him beautiful the night before, had thought him gorgeous then, but this was more real. This was- Naruto had nearly gave in. But he couldn't. Couldn't give in. Not now. Not ever.

_I can't stay here anymore. Any more, and I'll give in. I'll kiss him and – then things will go downhill from there. _

"Shut up, Sasuke. I don't have anything to say to you anymore."

And with the door closed with a loud bang. Sasuke started. He tried to sit up, but cringed and hissed out when he felt the stinging pain again.

It didn't take long for Sasuke to dress. Naruto, whether out of pity or spite, had laid out his clothes for him. It hurt, of course. Sasuke's body was still raw from the exertion he'd gone through last night. Then, there was the numbness that accompanied with whatever he was currently doing.

When Naruto had stormed out, Sasuke had just stared dumbly _(because it was numbness that grasped him. Unflinching, cruel numbness)._ But now, when he was left here – alone to rot here in this hell-hole and think – Sasuke bit down his lips. Then, _bam,_ he drove his fist against the wall, drove his knuckles so hard against it that the plaster broke. He looked down on his fist: white wall-covered his knuckles and blood leaked out of torn skin, mingling with the white. It was a gorgeous sight.

Kakashi didn't even look up from his mountain of paperwork when Naruto marched in angrily. Indeed, he had predicted Naruto's coming. Kakashi had heard the nearly hammering footsteps, thrumming down on the wooden floor from a mile away. Or something like that. Naruto was infuriated, probably ready to break a few bones.

Kakashi didn't flinch. Nor did the calm manner in which he was sitting shift.

Naruto then came in, nearly breaking down the door. His eyes were blazing in fury.

Kakashi had expected that reaction. Hell, he'd predicted it – the way he predicted many things. What he hadn't predicted though was the sadness in his eyes. Then again, Kakashi – even if he was a universally acknowledged genius – could never have predicted what Naruto would really feel like. Human emotions, he'd long since realised, couldn't be as easily categorised and analysed as actions were. So, Kakashi did the only thing he could do in this situation – wait and see what Naruto would do.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" Naruto spat out, dispensing with the usual niceties. He didn't need to greet Kakashi. Hell, he wasn't thinking of greeting that man now. In fact, the only thing he wanted to do was push Kakashi down on the floor and punch him a few times. But, Naruto wasn't a kid anymore. Besides, he doubted Kakashi was that easily overpowered. He hadn't been made Hokage for nothing.

"What did I do?" Kakashi asked, playing his oblivious act with the full relish of a man who had little in life to enjoy otherwise.

"Send me and Sasuke on that ... trip, if you'd like to call it that," Naruto articulated carefully, his tone not yet betrayed the ice-cold fury lurking in his eyes.

Kakashi shook his head. "It wasn't a trip. It was a mission. I thought you'd realise that-"

Naruto walked the few steps to Kakashi's desk and slammed his fist down on it. "Bullshit. It was nothing but a farce. Admit it."

There hadn't been anything to take care of – Oshiba had not existed.

"Yes," Kakashi then confirmation without a hint of hesitation.

"Why?" Naruto asked, fury appearing on his face full-throttle now. If Kakashi had been easy to intimidate, he would have taken on a protective stance. He wasn't scared, however. He knew that Naruto wasn't going to do anything to him. Try and he'd have hell to pay. After all, Kakashi wasn't exactly known for his kindness – indeed, he was quite the sadist underneath the somewhat unconcerned façade.

"Because you're making his and your life hell, Naruto," Kakashi answered unflinchingly, for the first time sounding less playful and more serious.

"I'm not. He deserves it, Kakashi. Sasuke deserves -"

Naruto didn't get to finish. Before he knew what was happening, he was down on his feet and rubbing a swollen cheek. Kakashi had landed quite a good punch on him.

"And don't ask me what I did that for, Naruto. Or you'll receive more."

Naruto didn't. He wasn't in the mood to ask for more pain. An angry Kakashi was something he feared quite a bit.

Kakashi wasn't an easily angered person. It took a lot to get past his defences and even when you got there, he rarely let his mask crumble. But, it had been years – a whole decade now – and Kakashi was fed up. He didn't believe in interfering with people's private matters; however, Naruto and Sasuke's fates were interlinked with his. Indeed, Kakashi would have felt like a total failure if he hadn't done something.

_I'm doing this for your good, Naruto. _

"Come with me, I'd like to show you something."

With that, he led Naruto out. Out into the training rounds, where he'd first taught Team 7 the meaning of teamwork.

"And what is you want to show me?"

Kakashi just motioned for Naruto to shut up, as they both sat crouched behind the bushes. Naruto didn't have the courage to question his ex-mentor any further – his face still stung from where Kakashi's iron-like fist had connected with his mouth. Damn it. The man was quite strong for his age.

Besides his question didn't remain unanswered for long because there was Sasuke.

_Fuck_, Naruto thought. Then, he shouldn't have expected anything else; this whole thing was about Sasuke and he'd – of course – continue to play a vital role in this. Sometimes, Naruto thought the entire universe was fixed upon Sasuke: he was like a bull standing in the midst of an arena. The hungry spectators, even if they were waiting for blood to be shed, would admire him from afar. Sasuke always attracted attention – be it positive or negative.

_Sasuke. Sasuke. Sasuke._

How Naruto wished he could have erased that name from his memory.

Yet now, even if he closed his eyes, Naruto couldn't deny that it was Sasuke and a group of kids. The children had to be somewhere around the age of ten – chubby-faced kids with all too curious looks playing upon their countenances.

Sasuke was talking, Naruto realised. It suddenly struck him that Sasuke was talking in a nearly gentle, assuring sort of way. For Naruto, who had only heard Sasuke sound either stern, bored or annoyed, it struck him quite by surprise. Naruto shook his head, and then tried to actively pay attention to what Sasuke and those kids were talking about.

"And why can't you just let your team-mate behind if they are slow?" one child asked, not sounding malicious in any way.

Sasuke paused, looking downward and he took a deep breath. "Because it's your responsibility as a ninja to ensure that everyone on your time is safe."

The child inquired: "But isn't it easier to fight alone?"

Sasuke didn't even pause before replying: "It is easier to fight alone at first, but sooner or later, you'll learn that it's always vital to have someone behind your back, watching you. A person – especially a ninja – can't fight alone."

Aghast, Naruto turned to Kakashi. What was this?

And then he heard the word: _Sensei._

_What Sasuke is a teacher? Him? That-_

Kakashi made a gesture to Naruto which implied that they should get going. Naruto nodded, even though his head was reeling from feeling mind-numbingly confused.

_..._

On their way back to Kakashi's office, Naruto only had one pressing thought on his mind.

"Why did you show me this?" Naruto asked, even though he knew that answer. He wasn't that dim-witted; he could tell that Kakashi had meant to show him that Sasuke wasn't the same cold-hearted bastard from ten years back. Then, if Naruto really thought about it, had Sasuke ever been that cold-hearted?

_(He'd always been explosive, even when he'd feigned otherwise. Sasuke had always been running hot and cold, either calm or volatile)._

Kakashi sighed, seeing how Naruto's face was – once again – marred by a troubled expression. He wished that he'd seen something else there; he wished that – for once – he would be greeted with another sight than perpetual frowns or repressed pain. Hadn't Naruto promised to be different, hadn't he stated that that he would never give in to weakness?

"He's changed, Naruto."

"But he still-" Naruto stopped in mid-sentence. He couldn't say that anymore. Maybe, it had been right. Sasuke had left them, but he hadn't been the one who had killed Sakura – it had not even been his fault to begin with.

_I just blamed him because it was easy. Easier than confronting the fact that – if it was anyone's fault to begin with – it was mine. _

And then it hadn't even been his, either. Sakura had died for him. She had chosen to die for him – and Naruto, if he'd ever really loved her, had to accept that fact. He clenched his fist, and closed his eyes. His felt something inside of him tighten – regret. And disgust. At himself. At Sasuke. At everything that had happened during that empty decade. God, how foolish he'd been! How foolish all of this was! And with regret came realisation, descending and running down Naruto's back like rainwater, trickling him with more insight than he'd ever had.

_Sasuke suffers and regrets as much as I do. _

"Do you really think Sakura would have want you to behave like this?" Kakashi asked quietly, and Naruto turned to look at his mentor – seeing that he'd taken his mask off. Naruto shivered. Kakashi looked so much more his age without that mask on. And he looked ... tired.

"If she ever wanted anything, it was for you and Sasuke to be happy."

_Sakura._ He hadn't heard that name in years, and every time it had rolled down someone's mouth, it had caused him tremendous pain. It still did – he knew that the void she had left behind couldn't be filled by anyone. He wondered if Sasuke felt that too. Something told him he did. No, he knew that Sasuke probably went to visit Sakura's grave daily.

And Kakashi was perfectly right. Sakura wouldn't have wanted any of this.

Once again, the lesson concluded as the ring of the bell vibrated through the entire classroom, rousing students from their self-indulgent daydreams. Those who'd been lethargic before now jumped from their chairs ecstatically, eager to finally go home. Had Sasuke been overly convinced of the importance of theoretical education, he would have been utterly crushed by the glee and enthusiasm of his leaving students. But Sasuke hadn't become a teacher out of passionate conviction. Even if, since then, his opinion had shifted quite a bit. He did consider education to be somewhat important, even though – being a ninja – he still valued physical strength, the ability to think beyond the underneath and teamwork more essential than theory. It was nice and all to be knowledgeable, but being book-smart didn't help you much in a battle. Rather than that, it could be a hindrance because it could make you over-analyse things. And in battles, you just didn't have time; it often worked against you.

Besides, Sasuke was looking forward to go home as much as his students did. If not even more so. Teaching was a time-consuming as well as stressful job. His voice was sore, and he was really in the mood for a nap. His ears hurt as well. The brats had been especially noisy today.

_I'm glad it's quiet here again. _

Indulging in the new-found peace, Sasuke's shoulders slumped down – he'd been so stiff the entire day, and inhaled deeply. He coughed immediately and cursed himself for forgetting that the windows hadn't been left open the entire day. Well, he'd change that. Or, his students would choke to death the next day. And as much as he claimed to hate the brats, their well-being was important to him after all.

_Kids are only kids. They'll grow out of their stupidity one day. _

He heard footsteps – strong footsteps – approaching. Sasuke sighed. Could this be another parent? He groaned. He just wanted to leave, not deal with an annoying guardian. It wasn't his fault that he had to be strict at times; he couldn't be lenient or there would be trouble.

When the person approached, as Sasuke could tell by the sound of the door being pushed open further and the _thud thud thud _of leather shoes clanging against the floor, he only stated: "I'm sorry. But my contact hours aren't today – _Naruto_."

Sasuke hadn't expected Naruto to ever come here – hell, he hadn't even known that Naruto knew that he worked here. In fact, Sasuke hadn't seen Naruto for the past six days; he'd never expected to see him here. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd expected to see him ever again. Not after all the crap that had happened. Sasuke wasn't sure he wanted to see Naruto.

Naruto scratched his head awkwardly. "I can come by later, if you're ... busy."

"No, it's fine," Sasuke said and leaned further back against the desk. He might as well do that since – judging Naruto's eloquence and talent at making speeches – this was going to take a while.

Naruto closed the door behind him, and threw a cautious look at the classroom – it hadn't changed one bit since the time he'd been a kid. Well, he had to admit that it was a bit more orderly than it had been in the days when he'd been a young one. Then again, it wasn't surprising, seeing how Sasuke kept things in control here. Naruto shook his head. Sasuke ... was really doing this – talking day for day in front a pack of brats that probably laughed behind his back for having butt-duck hair.

"Can't believe you're a teacher."

Sasuke snorted. "Life's full of surprises, they say."

"I guess."

Naruto paused. And then silence fell upon them. Sasuke rolled his eyes. Mercy, this was even worse than he'd expected.

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?" Sasuke asked snidely, "Because for that you could have just asked anyone else for information."

"No... I just don't know where to start," Naruto replied, shaking his head and rubbing his hands in very quick and thoroughly restless movements. "This is a bit awkward, Sasuke."

"Just say want you want to say, and don't make things more awkward by standing there like an idiot," Sasuke said in a somewhat gruff manner, and crossed his arms. He wasn't really sure he wanted to hear what Naruto had to say, not after what he'd done. But then, he knew that this might be the only chance.

Naruto's first instinct was to bark back "you're the idiot", but that – perhaps – wasn't what they both needed to hear right now. They could have quarrels later on. Hell, they could have a lot afterwards. Now, just now, he wanted to say what was on his mind; what had been on his mind for the past few nights.

"I'm sorry, Sasuke."

Sasuke looked up. "Sorry for what?"

Of course, Sasuke knew what Naruto was apologising for; however, he felt that it wasn't sufficient. He wasn't going to accept a half-baked apology just like that. He did have his pride. Besides, he felt that Naruto had shown himself to be eloquent enough; he certainly had been that when after that one night.

"Sorry for treating you like ... shit, all these years."

"Ten years, Naruto. Ten whole years," Sasuke threw in somewhat curtly, and the scowl on his face deepened.

"I know. No need to remind me. I was just so upset that you'd – not react. I hoped you'd call me back. On that, I hoped so hard you'd call me back. And when I returned all those other times, I always hoped that you'd snap and yell at me – but you didn't. And I started to believe you didn't ca-"

Sasuke held up his hand and then moved it to his lips. Naruto fell silent. This was enough, Sasuke thought. They had been both at fault. He for letting Naruto go all those years ago, and Naruto ... for leaving him alone when Sasuke had needed him the most.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, Naruto. I've done nothing else all my life but look back. I just once,would like to move forward instead of always looking back."

"You should have still let me know that you cared. But you're damned pride."

"You know, I keep telling myself I hate kids, but then I remember that I – we – started out here."

"Yeah."

"Naruto, do you want to keep on dwelling on old memories? Tell me what you really came for instead."

_Don't fuck around with me. _

Naruto coughed. He'd have to bring this up eventually – even if talking was kind of hard now. His mouth felt rather parched, which was odd under the given circumstances. He'd drank a lot of water today. _  
_  
"About the sex thing-"

"Naruto, why are you bringing this up _now_?" Sasuke exclaimed incredulously, folding his arms in front of his chest. He'd wanted to hear more about what Naruto intended to do, and not about awkward encounters.

Naruto moved closer to Sasuke, who'd finally caved in and sat down on the desk. His breathed hitched as he felt Naruto's hands on his thighs. "But that's what I came here for, don't you see?"

"That's too fast."

Naruto paused in his actions. "I wonder. But then we've wasted years, haven't we?" Further up his fingers went, reaching an area of Sasuke's body that made the usually so taciturn man groan.

_Damn him. I should have know that Naruto would be that ... fuck ... What should I do?_

"I've never really had sex in a classroom before," Naruto continued, and was about to continue his groping when Sasuke pushed his hand away.

"Well, me neither. And I don't intend to," Sasuke replied snappishly, not seeing what this discussion was supposed to be about. For starters, he didn't have as much experience as Naruto seemed to have, and the only thing he'd experienced in this area had been – well, Naruto knew all about it.

"I don't want to have any regrets either, Sasuke. I want to move on. And try out new things. Like -"

Naruto whispered something rather obscene into Sasuke's ear.

"Not here, you idiot," Sasuke replied through gritted teeth and pushed Naruto away from him; he was fine with them moving on. Hell, he wanted to – he wanted to move on from his past with Naruto at his side. But he didn't like Naruto's lecherous look right now, or the implication his sentence had beholden.

"You weren't like that at the onsen," Naruto stated simply. "You just kissed me, and then we had sex. You said that you'd only wanted to do it with me. Why so shy now?"

Sasuke only stared at Naruto in stupefaction.

Naruto didn't understand. He was a teacher, and as teacher, Sasuke had the duty – yes obligation even – to insure that he was good role model for his students. Therefore, there was no way in hell he'd allow Naruto to seduce him here, even if the prospect of it didn't even sound that bad.

"I'm not shy, Naruto. If someone walked in, I would have the bear the full brunt of the repercussions," Sasuke pointed out (and, to his defence, he was perfectly right. It wouldn't have looked good if Sasuke was caught right in the act). Naruto, however, only moved closer, and – before stealing a kiss from Sasuke – seductively murmured: "Then, you'll just need more convincing..."

Sasuke was about to point out that this was ridiculous – bloody ridiculous indeed, but it was too late.

By then, Naruto's lips had caught Sasuke's in a kiss. Sasuke paused, stiffening a little. He wasn't entirely used to this yet; he'd spent so much time alone that it hadn't fully managed to hit him yet that Naruto was interested in him. That he was no longer going to spend his nights alone; he could see from how quickly things were progressing thatNaruto wouldn't insist on them taking things slow. It scared and thrilled him at the same time.

"Fine, but lock the door, Naruto."

"I already did."

"You -" Sasuke started, but then stopped. He decided that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to start their reunion like this.

Hadn't they first kissed here? And as sappy as it was, Sasuke decided that this – them being together – was kind of fate. He hoped that it wouldn't take them another ten years to reconcile, in case one of them fucked things up again. That would have – in the words of a very wise man – just been too troublesome.

...


End file.
